


I am the waves (begging for big moons)

by truantwaves



Series: Mermaid au/I am the waves (begging for big moons) [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Other, and i love him, mermaid!patrick, patrick is a mermaid, this is my first time posting anything on here and uh, this story? my baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-10-31 09:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17846909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truantwaves/pseuds/truantwaves
Summary: Patrick Stump is a lone mermaid/siren living off the coast of Pismo, California.He has a major love for singing and hatred for killing people with his voice.His loneliness often gets the best of him, as does his fascination for humans.He just wants the chance to talk to a human, to not be treated like a grotesque creature to be fearful ofAnd after years of wishing and wanting something he never thought would happen to happen,He experiences what he thinks is pure magic.





	1. Why put a new address on the same old lonliness

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story of (hopefully) many to come! I am very excited for this au, like, ridiculously excited to post it kjfdkjg!  
> I have literally never posted any like... actual piece of writing so... I really hope you like it!  
> Feedback is appreciated and encouraged!

The ocean appeared calm on this chilled autumn night. Patrick sat upon a rock, his upper body suspended out of the water, taking in deep breaths of the salty air while his eyes as blue as the waves below him scanned around. Not a soul in sight. Not in the water, nor on the beach. It was typical for the beach to empty this late, sometimes a few teenagers looking for fun or adults wanting to escape reality came here this late, or at least, that’s what Patrick had noticed. But right now, on this night, it was barren. He had to admit, it made him a little sad, he hadn’t had someone to visit him in hours and he felt very lonely.

Even if he didn’t try and lure them out to him, he still enjoyed watching and listening to them, it was always entertaining to him. But, at least, right now he could sing without endangering anyone.

He hated that his singing caused so many problems. He hated that it had caused people to die and would cause many more to die as well. If only people were better swimmers when they were under trance. When he sang to people, he always genuinely hoped they could make it to him safely, so that he could talk to them and ask them questions, but they never seemed to be fast enough before they began to drown. Most of the time, Patrick managed to get them to shore safely without them seeing his tail… but sometimes he himself was too slow. Those times were the worst. He never knew what to do with the body, he didn’t want it to sink and rot at the bottom of the ocean, nor did he wish to keep it. It was always a battle with his mind on what to do.

So, Patrick sat, and made absolute sure that no one was around before he even dared let out a melodic note. But eventually, he did, he began to sing in a quiet tone, fingers gently tracing the words on the rough rock below him. 

The words were mostly meaningless to him, he didn’t understand the language that well and it was just some shanty he had picked up from fishermen that came here occasionally. He tried to understand it, though, tried hard to grasp what the words he was singing meant instead of what they sounded like… but it was tough. That didn’t stop him from trying, though. 

Patrick finished through with the short song and sighed, glancing back at the beach. He didn’t see any objects left behind to take… no food… nothing. He let out a longer sigh this time, tapping his fingers against the rock as he tried to think of what to do. Patrick had few and far between exciting days, so this was typical. His existence was a somewhat relaxing one, sure, but it was also extremely dull. If it was mere hours ago, when he had last tried to talk to someone, he would’ve said it was exciting, but now… close to midnight? He wasn’t having any fun. 

He could go back to his grotto, look through all his possessions and think about how they are used on the land, he could try and teach himself English more or even sing another song. But how would all of that get him to the morning, he was not sure. And he definitely wasn’t tired. So, here he was. This was his nightly trouble.

Patrick decided to go back to his grotto, plunging back down under the ocean waves and making his way down to where his beloved home was. He had found it years ago, right beyond the reach of the pier, under the water for the most part, safe and sound. No one could get to him… it was home. He had an almost fully functioning home, too. Or at least, what he thought a home looked like. He had few examples, but he believed he emulated it fairly well with what he had. It didn’t matter much anyways, he felt comfortable here, and no one else would ever have to see it. 

He had a little area dedicated to things he had found over the years. It’s also where he kept all the things he sang. Little bottles with messages that he used as songs, actual songs that were long forgotten if he got so lucky. It was all so beautiful to him. He saved everything he found… every little thing that resembled something humans would use in their daily lives. 

His favorite things were clothes, though. He loved when he found lost shirts or shoes, though he couldn’t wear the shoes due to a lack of feet, he still enjoyed sliding his hands into them or imagining having feet. With the shirts, he’d slide them on and see how they fit… they rarely fit right, but he didn’t care! They were clothes! Authentic human clothes! He mostly loved the idea of glasses and hats, though. Since, to him, they seemed like little things that didn’t matter at all yet humans used and wore them anyways. 

Rarely did he ever get his hands on an actual hat or pair of glasses, so he made them out of little scraps of other things. He currently had a makeshift pair of glasses, made from fishing line and random plastic he had found. He placed them upon his face now, giggling to himself at the feeling. He glanced into the mirror he had, grinning wider. 

After this, he grabbed a shirt and slid it over his head, the sleeves slid down his shoulders and the hem fell down his tail some, but he didn’t care at all. 

He was in the middle of his fun little dress up game, trying on different articles of clothing he had, just having fun to himself, when suddenly he could hear the distant voice of someone. It was a man, he could tell that much. It was very muffled and he couldn’t understand a word, even if it was clearer. Ever so curious as to why someone was out so late, Patrick put away the coat he was about to put on, leaving his glasses on his nose, and came back up quietly.

He popped his head out of the water and made his way to the rock, watching silently from afar. It was a man, he was right, the man had a phone up to his ear and what appeared to be a book of some sort in his hands. He was gesturing wildly with one hand while the other gripped the book. Patrick was no expert on humans… but this one seemed mad. Really mad. Patrick watched the angry man more intently, eyes widening as he saw him fling the book carelessly into the water before walking away, shoving his phone into his pocket as he walked back up the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hope y'all enjoyed this!! Feedback is absolutely always appreciated and encouraged!  
> And there will definitely be more to come as well, to stay updated go follow @mermaidpatrick au on tumblr!


	2. There's a hole inside of me the shape of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery man Patrick saw on the phone may no longer be a mystery  
> And perhaps Patrick has discovered his true happiness in the form of waterlogged pages  
> Or perhaps his true happiness is just a swim away.

Patrick sat staring at the book for a moment, glancing between where the book was and where the man had been. After waiting a while, just to make sure the mystery man didn’t come back full of regret, Patrick plunged under the water and carefully retrieved the forgotten book. 

He had at first thought it was just a novel of sorts, he had found those before and loved trying to read them… but upon returning to his home and opening it up, he noticed it wasn’t at all what it seemed. 

Handwritten notes and words lined the pages. It was full of loopy handwriting, words crossed out and rewritten followed by smaller words off to the side. Patrick was very curious now. He was poor at English, yes, but he wasn’t completely illiterate, he could understand some of the words… and the name at the beginning of the book.

 

‘Pete Wentz’, was the name. ‘Property of: Pete Wentz’, followed by something called an address, email and phone number? Patrick had no clue what those were, but he knew what a name was. Pete. He liked it. He was now trying to think of what the man looked like, tried to decide if he did truly look like a Pete. Or a Peter? Patrick wasn’t sure. He knew humans did that sometimes, shortened their names. But, ultimately, he came to the conclusion that Pete did indeed look like a Pete.

He wondered if Pete came to the beach often? If he liked the beach? If he missed this book? Why had he ever thrown it? Patrick was so curious, he wished he could give it to him and ask, but he wasn’t even sure he’d ever see Pete again. It was too dark to even remember much of his appearance… Patrick couldn’t help but frown as he considered this all, clutching the book close to his chest, sighing quietly. He then moved to put it with all the other human stuff, try to act like it was just a normal object he had found… but he couldn’t help but think it was different.

It was more personal. That’s what it was. He had a name… he hadn’t ever had a name before, really. Not one that he could associate with a face, at least. He knew this person now! Or… knew of a person. But that was huge for Patrick. This felt so extremely personal. He had all of this person’s writing too. If only he could decode it all. Maybe then it would all be even more personal. 

Patrick, though a bit disappointed at the thought that his questions would never be answered, felt very happy. Maybe this novel could be his friend… maybe he could talk to it and it could help him answer questions about the human world. Maybe one day he would be smart enough to understand what it all said… maybe one day Pete would come back and Patrick could pop out of the water and talk to him all about it. 

Patrick was over the moon at this point, thinking only about this new object, not letting it rest on the shelf for one minute. He kept attempting to put it down, but then he’d have a new thought and pick it right back up. Before he knew it, it was morning. And he was still occupied. This book could keep him entertained for years if he let it, it was so interesting to him. A personal, deep, amazing connection between a human and him had been formed, even if he was the only one aware of it, it had still happened. And he was so ecstatic about it, he could cry. He had a true friend now, it felt. An almost human friend… and that’s all he wanted in the whole world.

Patrick hadn’t felt so much pure joy in a while. Nor had he felt so inspired to actually learn to read English. Eventually, though, he did end up setting his newfound joy down on a shelf, deciding to go back up to his favorite rock, since it sounded like people were on the beach now.

He made sure to keep himself fairly hidden, as always, watching silently at the different groups that were arriving. There weren’t many yet, since it seemed to be early, but there were enough people on the beach to excite Patrick. The ones he could see were far down the beach, however, so it wasn’t worth trying to lure them. If they were too far away it wouldn’t work anyways.

Patrick was sitting, just watching, for quite a while, like usual. Most days he didn’t try to lure, so today wasn’t much different. No one really came near his end of the beach, which was fine. He almost preferred it that way. He couldn’t help but keep thinking about Pete, though. Patrick really wanted him to come back. He wanted him to magically show up and be completely willing to talk to a mermaid. Unfortunately, Patrick had a feeling one of those was more realistic than the other. 

Though he didn’t quite understand it, humans seemed to not be very fond of the idea of so called ‘mythical’ creatures being real. He had read books and heard people talk about him… how he was a legend here. They didn’t like it. But Patrick tried to not care very much about it. They didn’t know what they were talking about anyways. 

Patrick just hoped Pete hadn’t heard those legends. So maybe he would come back, looking for his special book. Honestly, Patrick did not have much hope that he would ever see this Pete person again, seeing as the day was winding down already, but he was clinging onto hope.

Right when he was about to go back home, flip through Petes book some more and maybe try on his outfits again, he saw a figure coming down the beach, towards the dock. He watched curiously, staying hidden mostly in the dark and beneath the water as the figure got closer, till it was on the dock. 

It was a male, and immediately Patrick was surging with excitement. Maybe… Maybe it was Pete. He couldn’t remember what he looked like very well since it had been so dark the day before, so he was purely riding on hope at this point as he gazed to the human, who spent a bit looking into the water intently, as if he was searching for something.

Then he was sitting down on the dock, and it seemed he was muttering something to himself. Patrick couldn’t tell what it was exactly, so he leaned forward against his rock more, hoping the dark could cloak him so the human couldn’t see him, or tell anything was there. He kept lifting himself up more, feeling some of his tail now extending out of the water. Patrick kept pushing himself up more, though it was getting difficult, and he was struggling some to keep himself upright now. 

Patrick had just managed to lean forward enough so he could hear and see the male human a lot better when suddenly the human was looking in his direction.  
“Who’s there?” the human then called out and Patrick froze so fast he nearly lost his balance against the rock and fell in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly hope you all enjoy the second chapter!  
> Feedback is, as always, appreciated greatly!  
> Leave kudos, comments please!  
> And feel free to follow @mermaidpatrickau on tumblr for updates/fanart/anything to do with the au!


	3. I keep telling myself I'm not the desperate type

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another close encounter with a human pushes Patrick more to show himself  
> Though his cautious nature just may pay off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter took so long to get out  
> And that it is so short!  
> However I hope to update it more regularly!  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated <3!

Patrick had barely managed to keep himself steady on his rock upon suddenly hearing a voice, but he had somehow stayed upright and still as can be. He thought that maybe… just maybe… he had gotten out of it and hadn’t been caught but the human was still looking in his direction and though Patrick knew he probably wasn’t actually, he couldn’t help but feel like the human was staring directly at him. 

“Hello?” He heard once again, really wishing that the human wasn’t being so persistent with this.

Patrick stayed completely still, and eventually the person stopped staring and sighed, shaking his head and muttering something to himself. Patrick couldn’t quite catch what he had muttered, but he didn’t seem too pleased. 

The human lingered, much to Patricks chagrin. He kept looking in the water, walking up and down the boardwalk, shaking his head and muttering things to himself all the while Patrick stayed stiff, hiding in the shadows perfectly.

As Patrick observed this person, he started to assume that it was actually Pete. Not just wishful thinking, he sure hoped, at least. But… he was looking for something, he looked similar to what Patrick thought he remembered Pete looking like... so maybe it was him! Patrick, if he were completely oblivious to how humans acted and reacted to things, would call out his name just to see if his assumptions were correct. However, he wasn’t that oblivious to the fact that if he were to do that, the human would likely run away screaming and the legend of the siren would live on even stronger. 

So, Patrick opted to stay dead silent. Just staring, watching intently, not daring to shift a muscle as he gazed at the figure, waiting for him to finally leave.

It felt like hours, though in likelihood it was only about thirty minutes, before the human Patrick would believe to be Pete left with a groan of what Patrick knew was frustration. 

As he left, Patrick could just barely catch the figure saying to himself, “I’ll be back in the morning”, before he head off down the beach. Tomorrow… in the daylight. Patrick could feel excitement rush through him. A second, way less creepy chance, at a real interaction with this person. The person who maybe owned the book of secrets that Patrick was so obsessed with. The person who, in Patricks mind, seemed to know the answers to his most aching questions.

Patrick finally was able to dunk back under the water and make his way back home, nearly vibrating with excitement as he got back to his grotto, grabbing his most prized possession, Petes book, to study and read, forming questions in his mind for the faithful meeting tomorrow morning. When the sun rose, Patrick would too.


End file.
